


I Won't Share You With Another

by ThebanSacredBand



Series: What Is A Man Without His Shadow? [4]
Category: Ancient History RPF
Genre: Don't copy to another site, I swear I'll write the women at some point!, Jealousy, M/M, Miscommunication, Roxana is only mentioned, The women in Alexander's life are fascinating!!, which is my bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 08:28:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21504895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThebanSacredBand/pseuds/ThebanSacredBand
Summary: Hephaistion had never been so angry.
Relationships: Alexander the Great/Hephaistion, Alexander the Great/Roxane of Bactria
Series: What Is A Man Without His Shadow? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1342807
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	I Won't Share You With Another

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Roxanne by the Police

Hephaistion had never been so angry. Not at Philip, not at Philotas, not even at _Bagoas_ ; no, the way he had felt towards each of them combined could barely hold a torch to the raw rage that Hephaistion felt pulsing under his skin right now. The moment Alexander had announced his intentions, Hephaistion had seen red, had barely been able to keep himself from shouting at him there and then, from pushing through the congregated generals and slamming Alexander against the table and demanding to know what in the names of the _gods_ he was playing at.

He had restrained himself, just barely. Well, Ptolemy had perhaps played a part, clasping his wrist so tight it hurt, and barely flinching when Hephaistion had turned the brunt of his attention towards him instead of Alexander. Their relationship had changed over the years, from studying together at Mieza when Ptolemy always acted as Alexander’s protective older (half-) brother, to the beginning of Alexander’s reign when Ptolemy seemed to have realised quite how much influence Hephaistion exerted, to the truce they now held, each knowing the other was among the least likely candidates to even attempt to harm the king.

In any case, the staying grasp and knowing look was enough to prevent Hephaistion from acting rashly in public. But now night had fallen, and Alexander had just turned in, and Hephaistion was further into his cups than he perhaps would have liked to admit, and there was no way that he wouldn’t confront Alexander about this now.

It was a matter of honour. Of control. Alexander was devoted to _him_ , would do whatever he wanted, how could he…

Hephaistion stormed through the tent flaps, not bothering to announce his presence.

Alexander looked up, startled, but his face relaxed into a smile as soon as he saw it was Hephaistion. He stood up and began to move forward.

“Hephaistion, I was hoping you-” And of course, one shouldn’t interrupt the king, but Hephaistion and Alexander were way past that at this point, and in any case, Hephaistion was too livid to care.

“You’re getting _married_?” Alexander had the decency, or perhaps the gall, to look contrite.

“That was what I wanted to-”

“Were you _planning_ on telling me, at any point? Or was I just to find out like any other of your generals, as if that is all I am?”

“Hephaistion, please, you _know_ you’re not-”

“Do I? _Do_ I?” His voice cracked, and fuck, no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was _angry_.

“Hephaistion _please_.” And now Alexander was crying, and gods, if that wasn’t doing something scarily similar to Hephaistion’s chest that Alexander’s wedding announcement had done. Alexander reached up to cup Hephaistion’s face, and he could not bring himself to pull away, no matter how much he hurt. He might have been crying himself, though he would never admit it.

Instead, he reaches one of his hands to tangle in Alexander’s hair, bringing his own forehead down to rest on his shorter lover’s. He was, he was _mad_ , he was _furious_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to let Alexander cry. Fuck. _Fuck_.

They paused like that for a few moments. Hephaistion’s thoughts were lost somewhere in the air the pair of them were breathing together. But he still, he still needed answers. It was like a physical pain, pulling his face away, up to his full height where Alexander could not follow it.

“When- when did you decide this?” Hephaistion swallowed.

“Only this morning.” It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from Hephaistion’s shoulders. He had needed to know how long this had been a secret, how long Alexander had been keeping this from him. He was supposed to be Alexander’s most trusted advisor, his second-in-command, however unofficial. The fact that he hadn’t been told about this, well that hurt in a way that Hephaistion hadn’t expected. And now they only question was-

“Why?” He asked, tersely. Maybe he was less angry right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to phrase it more pleasantly.

A complicated expression ran across the king’s face.

“It will be helpful to keep the Bactrians on side. A political union. That was why Philip married my mother, after all.” Hephaistion nodded along, but he didn’t reply. He knew Alexander deeply, intimately. He could tell that wasn’t all he had to say. Alexander swallowed, looking to somewhere to the side of Hephaistion’s face. “And… And I need an heir.”

The bottom dropped out of Hephaistion’s stomach. Of all the reasons that Alexander could have given, this was by far the worst. An heir? An heir who would take Hephaistion’s place in their empire, who would rise above him, who he would have to answer to. An heir who would be _more important_ to Alexander than Hephaistion was.

“An heir?” He barely breathed the word, but it still echoed around the tent, in the space between them. He stepped back. He couldn’t- He couldn’t touch Alexander right now. He wanted to scream, to punch, to cry.

He should have known. He should have _known_. He should have known that this was why Alexander would get married, should have known that this was what Alexander wanted. But he hadn’t, and he didn’t.

Alexander face crumpled. “Yes, an heir, Hephaistion. I am king, after all.” It was not as though Hephaistion needed reminding of the fact, but it felt like a blow all the same. Of _course_ Alexander was king: that was why Hephaistion was _here_ in this godsforsaken middle-of-nowhere, Asia. And of _course_ a king needed an heir, to rule after him, to maintain the world he had created for himself – and that was more important to Alexander than to almost any other king before him.

“You had plenty of opportunities to make an heir back in Macedon, Alexander.” He spat out, and gods, this was not what he meant to say, was not what he wanted or needed to say. This was not a way to address a king, but he was so, so past caring.

“It’s… I didn’t… I do not _want_ to get married, Hephaistion. I don’t _want_ Roxane. I want _you_.” There were tears brimming in Alexander’s eyes again, but Hephaistion managed to stop himself from reacting this time, nails biting into his clenched fists with the effort not to reach out and hold him tight, especially at those words, that made Hephaistion feel almost whole again. “But I also want a son. Since Darius… I haven’t been able to stop _thinking_ about it.”

And, oh, there it was. Darius’ young son, embracing Alexander after being abandoned to the Macedonian king by his fleeing father. And maybe, maybe Hephaistion had felt that too, whatever Alexander had felt at that moment. A boy in Alexander’s arms, to meld to become whatever they wanted him to be. Another way to one-up the Achaemenid Alexander and his army had overthrown.

“And you’ll still be _there_ , Hephaistion. I would not have you anywhere else than at mine and my son’s side.”

Hephaistion‘s shoulders relaxed a little. Picturing Alexander with a son, with a son who Hephaistion will know, and care for, and influence as he does Alexander, made all the anger that had been eating him in the time since Alexander had first announced his impending wedding drain away. He could rationalise things, now, could breathe a little easier. He tried to clear his mind of whatever emotion had overthrown it before.

He stepped back close to Alexander, and felt the shorter man melt into his arms, nestled against his body, fitting perfectly, as though he was made to be there. He was always meant to be there.

They held each-other there, quietly, tightly, for longer than perhaps was necessary. Eventually, Alexander stared speaking, murmuring into Hephaistion’s shoulder.

“The men won’t like her. Roxana, I mean. As queen. They would rather I married a Macedonian, had a Macedonian son.” Hephaistion merely huffed in agreement. “But mother isn’t Macedonian. And… and besides, I don’t think I’ll ever go back. There’s too much _more_.”

Hephaistion merely clutched him tighter. Alexander’s ambitions were the talk for another day, when he was less raw. For now, there was this.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> So when I started writing these vignettes it was very much 'Hephaistion is manipulating Alexander and Alexander is too blind to see it' and it has since become 'Hephaistion is jealous of anyone who even breathes in Alexander's direction but is too blind to see it', which is obviously quite a change, but I think I like it? In any case I'm keeping them together as a series, and if the series is now just 'ThebanSacredBand writes historical fiction centred around Hephaistion' then that's the way it is!
> 
> In any case, let me know what you think! Drop me a comment or find me occasionally posting on tumblr at [thebansacredbanned](https://thebansacredbanned.tumblr.com/)


End file.
